


Untitled Cake Bodyswap Fic

by thesaddestboner



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Bodyswap, M/M, Not!Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:57:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9892337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: Blake wakes up two thousand miles from home, in the body of his best friend.  What’s a guy to do?  Masturbate, of course.  And maybe some other stuff, too.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when I was into American Idol fandom? I sure as hell don't! But apparently I was writing Cake bodyswap fic, once upon a time!
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

Blake shrugged off sleep drowsily and flung out an arm for his companion for the night. He always preferred to take the morning slow, maybe even get a blowjob or two before breakfast. To his chagrin, the girl he’d brought to bed with him the night before-- techinically that morning, heh-- was nowhere to be found.

Blake sat up slowly and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, allowing his brain to catch up. So it was his turn to be ditched come morning. Not something he was used to, but he figured he more than earned it for all the times he fucked and ran.

As bright, cheery sunlight filtered in through slatted blinds and Blake started to catch up with his surroundings, he realized something was _very_ off.

He could hear faint voices carrying over the sounds of-- cooking? In his kitchen?

Blake shoved the covers aside and got out of bed, wishing he’d brushed up on his ninja moves. He wouldn’t be able to hold off burglars, even the kind who cooked him breakfast before robbing his place.

Blake sank into deep, plush carpeting and, yeah, he was wide awake now.

This wasn’t his house.

Had he somehow gotten up in the middle of the night and sleepwalked into someone else’s place? Into their _bedroom_? Did Bottle Blonde put something in his wine and bring him back to _her_ place once he’d passed out? Although the thought of Blondie doing nefarious things to him while he slept was, at the very least, mildly titillating, it was still kidnapping and Blake was _not_ down with kidnapping.

It was then that he realized was naked. He opened one of the closet doors and grabbed a robe, throwing it around his shoulders. Blake opened the door and stormed out of the room to give the girl a piece of his mind.

As he approached the kitchen, the sounds became more evident. Someone was frying bacon and eggs-- the snap, crackle and pop in the frying pan were like heaven to his ears. The sharp, pungeant smell of coffee, however, threw him off. Even Blondie had to know he didn’t like coffee.

Blake stepped into the kitchen, prepared to confront his generous abductors.

“Hey, what d’you-- ”

The abductors whirled around to reveal-- _Chris_ ’s parents.

Huh.

Blake stopped dead in his tracks. “What are _you_ guys doing here?”

And, wasn’t that funny, he was speaking with an accent now.

Blake went cold all over, like he’d been thrown into the deep end of a swimming pool.

“Chris!” Chris’s mom brightened when she saw him and set an empty plate on the kitchen counter. “You’re up. Breakfast’s almost ready.”

“You must’ve gotten in late,” Chris’s dad said, as he poked at the bacon and eggs with a spatula. “We didn’t hear you come in last night.”

“I-- I-- aren’t you guys supposed to be in Virginia?” Blake stuttered.

“Honey,” Mrs. Richardson said, stepping over to him, “we _are_ in Virginia. You must be overworking yourself again.” She placed the back of her hand over Blake’s forehead. “You’re warm. Let me get you some orange juice.”

“But I thought Ch-- I lived, you know, not with you guys,” Blake managed. He thought he was doing quite well, all things considered.

Chris’s mom eyed him and furrowed her brow. “You asked us to watch your apartment while you were out of town, remember? We weren’t expecting you back ’til Monday, but it looks like you decided to cut your trip short.”

“What trip?” Blake asked, leaning heavily against the counter.

Chris’s mom shook her head again and _tsk_ ed lightly. “Your trip to Myrtle Beach. The one you’ve been planning all month.”

Chris’s dad dumped some food on the plate before him and slid a cup of coffee into his hand. “There you go, son. Enjoy.”

Blake looked the coffee and made a face. “Thanks . . . Dad.” Blake nudged the cup of coffee aside and picked at the eggs and bacon.

Mr. Richardson raised his eyebrows.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


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